


Old Fashioned

by alice_time



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Domestic Discipline, Gen, Shorts, Spanking, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:03:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6576871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alice_time/pseuds/alice_time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of shorts attached to specific episodes. In general, what would happen if some of those authority figures decided to take a more hands on approach in keeping the Earp sisters from getting themselves killed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Doc Talks to Waverly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in episode three after that bit of "If you don't take care of it, I will." and Doc goes and yells at Waverly at the bar. What if he did more than yell and refrained from the name calling? 
> 
> He's an old-fashioned guy. I'm a terrible person and as soon as I saw this part of episode three my brain went to -- what if Doc did things a little differently? So this happened. 
> 
> Chapter contains non-consensual spanking of an adult by a concerned pseudo-parental figure.

Seeing little Waverly in Bobo’s little enclave had set a fire in Doc he vaguely recognized as… _concern_. He’d been friends with the girl’s great-great-grand-father, once upon a time after all. His personal feelings about the man aside, the sweet little Waverly ought not be exposing herself to the dangers therein.

Her phone had drawn Doc and Bobo’s attention at the start.

“You deal with that,” Bobo said, nodding at the girl hiding unsuccessfully behind a camper. “Or I will.”

Doc frowned, marching off in determination, “Stupid girl,” he muttered, firing off a warning shot he doubted she’d heed longer than in it took her to get her ass back to Shorty’s.

He gave the revenant a short nod in consideration, holstering his gun and hurrying after her, uncertain how precisely he was going to deal with the youngest Earp, but certain he needed to do _something_ before she got herself killed. Doc found her seated at the bar, research splayed out around her.

She played at nonchalance as he marched inside. “Oh, hey Henry.”

He strode over, grabbing her arm and tugging her off the bar stool. “What the hell were you doing, tailing me?” he demanded.

“I—well what are you doing with Bobo Del Ray?” she asked.

He blinked. _Didn’t expect that._ “None of your business.” Which it wasn’t, because she ought to be keeping her nose out of it before Bobo cut it off.

“You don’t know what he did to my family,” she stammered. “You don’t know what he _is._ ”

Doc knew all too well what Bobo was, more, the fear, the sadness, in Waverly’s large eyes only served to further fan the flames of his protective streak. _She could have been killed._ He didn’t want to care, but he found he couldn’t help himself. Not then. Not with her looking at him like that.

“Little girl, you don’t know what _I_ am,” he returned.

“I know what you’re supposed to be.” A sad smile twisted on her lips. “You’re supposed to be a hero.”

And wasn’t that a punch in the gut?

“You’re supposed to be Wyatt Earp’s _best friend._ You’re supposed to be here to help us.”

He slammed his hand into the counter, biting his tongue against the foul things he wanted to say to her. _No._ She was right. He _was_ Wyatt’s friend. Once. And in honor of that friendship he was going to keep this girl from getting herself killed. “Very well, I’m gonna help you.” He grabbed her arm again, tugging her along.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, trying and failing to get free. “Let me go!”

“You know what kind of danger you put yourself in today, little girl?” he growled, pulling a chair out from one of the tables. “That camp site is filled with revenants that would soon as tear your throat out as look at you.” He gave her another sharp look. “You are _not_ your sister, Waverly Ann.” He sat down, tugging her over his lap.

The sudden change in position left her momentarily speechless but that was short lived as she immediately tried to get back up again. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. “Let me go.” She squirmed and kicked, and he responded by taking hold of her arms, trapping her wrists in one large hand and smacking her skirt-covered backside once—sharply. “Ow!”

“Settle down, missy,” he said. “You’ve asked for my help, and I’m giving it.”

“This,” she panted, struggling, “is _not_ helping!”

“I think it is,” he replied. “Helping you remember that this isn’t some Nancy Drew mystery for you to solve.” He smacked down again. “This is a dangerous thing you’re wrapped up in and if you aren’t more careful Wynonna will be burying her last sister.” He pulled her closer. “A sore backside ought to remind you to be more careful in the future.” He tugged her skirt up, raising an eyebrow at the bright underwear. _Not the time for commenting on that._ He smacked his hand down again. “You understand me?”

By her swearing, he took it she did not, and began spanking in earnest while she kicked and called him every name under the sun.

“Do. You. Want. Your. Sister. To. Bury. You.” He punctuated his words with sharp smacks to the tender curve. “Well?”

The swearing finally stopped, and in a soft, meek tone, Waverly managed a, “ _No_.”

“Are you going to follow me again?” He continued spanking.

She shook her head.

“What was that, little girl?”

“Uh—no. No I won’t follow you, again.”

“Are you going to go to those campgrounds again?”

“N-no, sir,” she whimpered. “I won’t. I p-promise.”

He went on for a bit longer until the last bit of ornery fight eased out of her and she relaxed over his lap, crying soft broken tears. He felt a twinge of regret over the scolding, but the point was a necessary one. He wasn’t so uncouth, however, to leave her in such a state. Careful, he tugged her skirt back down and shifted her up into his arms, sore backside between his knees and head pressed to his shoulder as she cried.

“It’s all right now,” he said softly. “I know. It’s hard. Your big sister is all vinegar and bluster and you want to help.” He stroked her hair.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“I know, little girl. I know.” He felt a twinge of warmth in his chest. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A genuine need to comfort her. “You just have to play to your strengths. Which means sticking to your books and your research. All right?”

She nodded.

“Good girl.” Once she was cried out, he let her up off his lap and stood, eyeing her with curiosity. He wasn’t sure what she was going to do next, honestly. The Earp girls were something of enigmas for all their firecracker tempers.

She glanced down at the floor and then looked up at him, chewing on her lip. “I—You are Doc Holliday, aren’t you?”

He nodded, tipping his hat. “At your service, ma’am.”

She swallowed. “I—are you—I mean, what you did…”

“Are you asking if I’ll do it again?” He put a hand on her chin, tilting her face up. “I will. To you, to your firebrand of a sister—the pair of you might be enough to give this old man a heart attack for all the reckless, foolish things you do. I am here to help, Waverly. So that’s what I'm gonna do.”

She blushed. “Oh.”

He smiled. “I recommend a shot of whiskey.” He walked past her, patting her backside in amusement. “But the fire will fade before tomorrow I would bet.”

She blushed brighter and waited until he had gone before swearing sharply.

“And watch your language!” came floating back to her regardless.

Her eyes widened.

Doc, outside the bar, chuckled for a moment. _I’m getting in too deep._ He shook his head. _Always do when it comes to Earps._

_Nothing I can do about that now. Now is there?_

Nothing he could do, except be there for the girls. Maybe, just maybe, helping them would get him what he wanted in the end.

At least they were prettier than Bobo.


	2. Dolls Talks to Wynonna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Episode five. "Discipline in the ranks" set me thinking. 
> 
> Contains the non-consensual spanking of an adult by an authority figure.

“Hey look, evidence Bobo can’t get his porn of the net.” Wynona slouched against the evidence box, eyeing the magazine with distaste before turning to Dolls.

Not turning toward her, he eyed the charges sheet, “Resisting arrest, resisting arrest with possession—for half an ounce.” He tossed his pen onto the table.

Wynona made a face. _Yeah. Definitely feel the love._ “Pot brownie,” she clarified. “And don’t think I wasn’t tempted to eat it on the way back.”

“You know none of these charges are going to stick, right? This is what happens when you go cowboy.” He turned toward her, hands folded. “We got nothing.” He gave her a sharp look. “You blew it, and now I’ve got to cover for you.”

She made a face. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I have to do my job—when are you going to get it Wynonna?”

“I’m not a cop, Dolls! So just let me do things my way.”

He gave her another look that read _Are you serious right now?_ “Your way isn’t working. You think I don’t get worked up over these bastards the same as you?”

“Who knows what you feel, Dolls.” She dropped the magazine in exasperation.

“I have to deal with Cryderman.” He stood up and grabbed his jacket, heading for the door.

“Well I’ll come with you.”

Dolls grimaced and turned back to her. “No, you’ve done enough damage for one day.”

“But—”

“Wynonna, you’re in enough trouble with me, _don’t_ push it.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That means,” he glowered, “that once I sort out the judge, I plan on sorting out _you_. I’m tired of your lack of discipline.”

She watched him leave, a bit stunned and more than a bit uncertain. Obviously Dolls had something in mind—and she wasn’t all that sure she was going to like it.

***

As usual, the Black Badge division was practically empty, leaving Wynonna alone to face Dolls.

“You broke into the police station.” Dolls sighed. “Seriously? The carbon monoxide alarm? That’s inciting panic.”

“Uh…it was for a good cause? I said thank you.”

He shook his head. “You know, I told Cryderman I would maintain discipline within the ranks.”

“You said something similar earlier to.” She flashed a smile. “What, you gonna make me run laps, Marshal?”

“No.” He strode forward and grabbed her by the arm, her toward his desk. He propped his leg up on his chair and pulled her over it with no sign of effort.

“What the hell, Dolls!” she squirmed.

“I did say I was going to sort you out.” He tightened his grip and landed his first smack on her exposed, jean-clad backside.

“Hey!” She turned her head, tossing her hair out of her face unsuccessfully and catching some of it in her mouth with a grimace. “Stop that.”

“Nope.” He brought his hand down another half-dozen times, the loud clap of skin striking denim-covered skin echoing in the office.

“Dolls!” she whined. “This isn’t funny.”

“And I’m not laughing.” He started spanking in earnest. “You put yourself in danger today with that stunt at the campground. You refuse to follow even the most _basic_ of procedures.”

“Well, you knew what I was before you brought me on,” she remarked, trying to get purchase to shove off his leg and failing.

Dolls paused in the spanking. “I don’t think I’m getting through to you.”

“Yeah, so stop then!”

“No, I think I just need to take a different tactic.” He unfastened her belt, and jeans and tugged them down. “Do you always go commando?”

“It’s laundry day.” She made a face. “Stop!”

“Not until I get through to you.” He started spanking again and she started kicking in earnest as the heat built up far faster without the protection of her pants. “And I _will_ get through to you, Wynonna.”

She wanted to scream and curse—but she didn’t particularly want anyone from the rest of the station barging in on this. She knew the sight she made, bare-assed, jeans trapping her legs together, slung over Dolls’ leg and dangling in the air while he spanked her like an unruly child.

_No one else_ needed to see that.

“I understand you’re in this for revenge, I do, but you need to understand that this is about more than just your vendetta.”

A particularly hard smack caught Wynonna off guard, the first tears rolling down her cheeks.

“You also need to understand that I prefer you not dead, and that if you keep pulling stunts like the one you did today, you’re going to end up, _dead_. Do you want Waverly stuck cleaning up after your mess, Wynonna?”

She didn’t answer and apparently that was the wrong tact because he laid out a half-dozen _very_ hard swats. “Uh—no!” she cried. “No.”

“Then are you going to listen to me?”

“Yes!” She sniffed. “Please, I’m sorry—I—I won’t be reckless anymore. Please stop!”

He raised his eyebrows. “If we have to revisit this, you better believe you’ll be getting more than my hand, is that clear?”

Silence.

He tilted her forward a touch and spanked her sit-spots with prejudice.

“Yes, sir! It’s clear!”

“Good.” He put her back down onto her feet and tugged her pants back into place before he turned her around, eyeing the red eyes, nose and tear stained cheeks. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Earp. I’m almost used to you.” His tone was fonder than Wynonna could ever remember hearing it. “Come here.” He pulled her in for a hug.

She wasn’t sure what surprised her more, the spanking, or the hug.

One thing she was sure of though, was while she definitely _never_ wanted the former again, the latter was—nice.

“Sorry,” she said again. “I-I’m not good at not being a fuck-up.”

“I know, but I’m going to help you. You’re on my team now—which means inviting me along when you need to break in somewhere.”

She smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one has two shorts, as the first is very short. I've got one more to finish up for season one, but I'll likely write some more once I've watched season 2. First one is from episode six, I think. The other is from the party at the homestead episode.*
> 
> Chapter contains non-consensual spanking of an adult by a concerned pseudo-parental figure.
> 
> *Some cannonical changes occur.

**Doc’s Second Discussion with Waverly**

“What’s this I hear about you going into an interrogation room with Bobo Del Ray?” Doc sidled up next to Waverly at the bar.

“I had questions for him.”

“And following him around with a camera seemed like a good idea to you?”

“I didn’t go in the campgrounds.” She gave him a wide-eyed look. “I promised I wouldn’t, and I didn’t.”

“I feel like this is a case of you obeying the rule of the law rather than the _spirit_ of the law.”

Waverly took a look around the all too empty bar and swallowed. “Uh—I mean, nothing happened. I’m fine. And Bobo only saw me the once so—”

“He saw you?” Doc tipped his hat back.

“Yes…”

“ _Waverly Ann._ ”

“Doc.” She bit her lip. “I—”

He tugged her away from the bar and gave her three hard swats over her jeans. “I ought to give you a proper whalloping, but I won’t. _Provided_ you stop being foolish. We clear?”

“Yes Doc.”

He sighed. “Why don’t you pour us a couple drinks and we’ll mope together. Eh?”

“Okay.”

 

**Waverly Goes Out the Window**

Waverly had really hoped this engagement celebration would _repair_ her relationship with her normal friends. So far, she’d been excluded, insulted and they hadn’t even brought good booze. It wasn’t fantastic. But Doc was trying to make it better with a bit of poker when a loud bang sent him out to investigate the barn.

But Waverly had a feeling, not a great feeling and peered out the window in time to see him pull his gun. She grabbed her shawl and headed out to the barn, cautious but curious. She called for Doc. He popped out of the barn and flashed a reassuring smile.

“We’ve got a little problem, but I think we can sort it out.” He put an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s get you inside.”

“How little of a problem?”

“The witch is on her way, and she wants her boy, that skull of yours. But I think we can make a stand here.”

Waverly frowned. “Are you sure? I mean, I could just run.”

“Constance cannot come onto this land. And I have this,” he held up the bit of yellow silk. “It can dampen her powers.”

“Well then. Let’s give it a try.”

“You’ll have to do exactly as I say, if it gets to be too risky, we’ll send you away. But I do believe we can take this witch.”

“All right, Doc.” Waverly nodded. “Let’s give it a shot.”

Doc got her inside, where the party only continued to get—weirder. A stripper who wasn’t a stripper attacked them and Waverly was forced to defend herself with a pair of scissors. Which was rather impressive. Doc was starting to regret his decision to face the witch here, however, but he had to deal with now.

Doc watched Waverly tear into her supposed friend with amused pleasure, but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of…zombies.

Stephanie died trying to flee the house, only to be resurrected as a zombie for the witch.

So they called Wynonna and locked up the house. Doc ordered Waverly upstairs and ordered her stay put. Waverly wasn’t sure that was going to do much good, but headed up anyhow to search for shotgun shells and any other weapons they might have—ostensibly. But Waverly wasn’t going to be bullied by a crazy witch anymore than she was the guy in middle school who harassed her friends.

She retrieved the skull and headed out the window to confront the witch. It was cold, and terrifying, but she did it anyway. _Heroes always win._

She smashed the skull against the barn, just in time for Wynonna to show up, Doc at her heels, to fire at the witch.

Wynonna hurried over to Waverly, checking her over for damage. “That was really brave, _stupid_ , but really brave.” She brushed a kiss to Waverly’s forehead.

Which was about the moment that Waverly remembered a promise she had made to Doc. She glanced back at him, frowning slightly. He gave her a sharp look in return.

Yeah, he hadn’t forgotten.

They took Waverly back inside, pulling out the first aid kit. Doc sat her down and took her injured arm in his, gingerly squeezing along the limb.

Waverly winced, brow furrowing. “Ouch.”

“I think you have fractured your wrist,” Doc remarked. “You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”

“Hell, I’ve fractured my wrist a time or three,” Wynonna said. “You’ll be up and running in no time, Waves.”

“Thanks.”

Doc pulled a splint from the kit and got Waverly taken care of. “We need to have a chat about you running out trying to get yourself killed, Waverly-Anne. But it can wait a spell until the swelling in your wrist goes down.”

Waverly flushed.

“I think you should go to bed, we’ll talk when you wake up.”

Waverly stood up and hurried out of the room.

***

Some hours later, the swelling had gone down and Doc took the opportunity of Wynonna heading off to take Waverly over his knee for that talk. “Would you like to explain why it is you jumped out a window and confronted a dangerous witch all on your lonesome?”

Waverly didn’t have any real idea what to say to that. She’d had some grand ideas going out there. Ideas that, admittedly, came out of urban fantasy novels, but still. Doc wouldn’t understand that.

“Um…because the skull was my responsibility?”

“Do you not think it would have been wiser to say, take the skull and run _away_ from the witch?”

“Maybe?” Waverly was trying for agreeable.

“Mmm hmm.” Doc shook his head. “On account of your injury, we’re doing this over your bed but the next time you put yourself in harms way with such casual reasoning, I will have you over my knees in a chair again and I think you’ll recall the unpleasantness of that. You should also keep in mind that the kitchen is home to several very promising wooden spoons. Having been swatted a time or two with such an implement, I can assure you of its charms.” He checked her positioning, chest elevated off the bed with a pillow, wrist off to one side and her uninjured wrist in his free hand. “Are we quite clear?”

“Crystal clear,” Waverly groused.

“All right then, then I will address my current displeasure.” He started the spanking without lecturing, he was already quite certain she knew what he was upset about, there was little need for rehashing it at the moment. She kicked and wriggled, but had nowhere to go. It was, he had to admit, rather endearing. “Do not thrash too much now,” he swatted her thigh, “you are to take care of that injured wing.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He swatted her thigh a bit harder. “Your disregard for personal safety is becoming quite vexsome, Waverly Anne. I thought we’d settled this before. Now, if you should like to become more adept at defending yourself, that is a discussion we can have. I would be happy to assist you, but as it stands, you went out to that witch with not a weapon in sight.” He moved his leg up, tipping her forward just a touch, and laid out a heavy set of swats where she’d feel it most sitting down. “That was down right foolish and near suicidal to boot.”

Waverly swallowed the first rush of tears. “I know!”

“Oh, do you now? Then pray tell, explain yourself.” He continued his lesson without a moment of pause.

“It was my responsibility. I—I finally _had_ a responsibility. Me. Not Wynona. Just me.” Waverly sniffed. “It was my job to protect the skull from Constance.”

“Oh I see, but now, how did what you did, _protect_ the skull? You think you can protect a thing if you are dead?”

He waited a moment, but when she didn’t answer, he laid a sharp swat to her thigh.

“No!” She was crying properly now and had stopped kicking. “No. I’m sorry, Doc. I—I didn’t think and I’m sorry.”

“If we have to revisit this again, I will give you a truly memorable lesson in personal safety, are we clear? If not with a wooden spoon, I’m sure to find another implement that will do just fine.”

“We’re clear!” She nodded. “Really.”

“All right then.” He finished off the spanking with two more swats, giving her a few moments to settle, rubbing her back gently before gingerly getting her into his arms. “That’s all right now, I’ve got you, darling. You’re safe and sound.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing softly. He stroked her hair, rocking gently and humming. “It’s all right.”

She took a bit longer to settle this time around, but this time was different. She’d actually _seen_ the mortal danger she’d been in. Seen her friend die. Had to kill a man. Doc hadn’t _just_ spanked her for putting her life at risk. She’d needed an outlet for all that pain. He knew that feeling too well.

“All better now?” he asked as she lifted her head from his shoulder.

“A little, maybe.” She sniffed. “Jerk.”

“That’s my girl.”

Waverly blinked. “So who swatted you with a spoon?”

He sighed. “If you must know, it was Wyatt.”

“Seriously?” She managed a slight grin.

“Yes. He found me to be…well I recall him using the words, _reckless urchin_ , a few too many times.” Doc shook his head. “He had a very hard hand.”

Waverly giggled in spite of herself.

“Now, now, don’t go laughing at me, missy. I’ll put you right back over my knee.”

She shook her head. “Me? Laughing? I’m not laughing.”

“That’s what I thought.” He shook his head and smiled. “You Earps are all handfuls, aren’t you?”

“I suppose. You—will you really teach me to fight? Throw knives maybe?”

“I will.” He nodded. “So as the next time someone attacks the homestead, you will be a more able defender.”

Waverly smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Wynonna kills Jack, she needs help unwinding. Doc assists.

**Doc Talks to Wynonna**

She was all kinds of angry, all kinds of drunk, and wound up tighter than top. But Doc had seen that sort of thing before. He knew what it was like to spend all of that rage and feel empty at the end of it.

“Your fortune cookie wisdom, sucks, Doc,” she said, leaning against the bathroom sink. “Why don’t you tell me what I can do? There has to be something I can _do_ , Doc.”

“Well, you’re too drunk and too, I hesitate to use the word delicate but I do think it applies here, to consent to any of the more enjoyable methods of unwinding. But I do think I have a solution. This is hardly the place, however.”

Wynonna frowned at him. “Why not?”

“Because you are a lady and you deserve some privacy.” He held out a hand. “Why don’t I take you home?”

She blinked. “I suppose. There’s more booze at home. And they’re free.”

“That’s the spirit, my dear.”

***

Doc got Wynonna through the door, Waverly was not at home, thank goodness. He’d prefer to keep each sisters’ private affairs just that, private. He led her into the living room and over to the couch.

“Are we going to make out?” Wynonna slurred some of those words.

Doc shook his head. “I told you, darling, you aren’t up to consenting to the more pleasurable methods I might employ to unwind. Kissing you always leads to…other things. I would not take advantage in such a state. I will, however, help in another fashion.”

She frowned in confusion. “I don’ get it.”

“You will surely understand in just a moment, I guarantee it.” He settled onto the couch and pulled Wynonna close to his leg. “You’ll feel better though. I always did.” He tugged her over his lap, praying the sudden change in position wouldn’t have her throwing up.

“Doc!”

“Settle down.” His tone was mild as he laid down the first swat. “I told you I would help you unwind.”

She bucked in his grip, but Doc held fast and kept on going. He was not spanking particularly hard, Wynonna was a bit too drunk to really appreciate that. But he remembered all too well Wyatt sobering him up after a long night of drinking after an even longer day of tracking down a particularly violent monster of a man. He’d been left just like Wynonna, and Wyatt had known just what to do.

He owed it to Wyatt to do the same for Wynonna now. He did not begrudge her angry tears, he’d shed enough of them himself.

“Drinking away the pain always seems like the thing to do, I admit, but Wyatt taught me once long ago that it isn’t the best thing to do. I forgot that. I forgot too much of Wyatt tried to teach me. In the dark. I was a miserable fool. I am sorry for that.”

He continued his barrage, but he thought he was finally getting through to her. She wasn’t swearing near so much at any rate.

Wynonna was more sober than she had been at the outset, and in spite of the fire building on her backside, and the snotty tears were embarrassing—she was feeling that horrible tight spiral in her chest loosening. The Seven were finally dead. Her daddy was avenged. Willa was avenged. But deep down she knew it was only the beginning. There was still a whole slew of Revenants left for Peacemaker and at the top of that list was Bobo Del Rey. She wanted him dead, a bullet through the eyes.

But she wanted something else too. She wanted to know that when all of this was over, there would be something else out there for her. Finishing the Seven had her realizing not just how much work there was left but…that she had no idea what she’d do when it was all really over. What was she if she wasn’t hunting Revenants or running? Who was she?

Her shoulders shook with tears, but all those tensed up muscles relaxed as she gave in. There was nothing she could do to escape. She didn’t even want to. Doc was there, taking care of her, and if she admitted it to herself, there was a tiny little part of her that cared about him more than she’d ever admit. There was a tiny part of her that liked that Dolls and Doc cared about her enough to take a stand. Even if that stand had her ass on fire—it didn’t last long, the pain. And she…she felt better after. She felt better now.

Doc noticed the change quick enough, easing up on his swats and then stopping to rub her back. “There we are now, darling.” He gave her a few moments to collect herself and bundled the little brunette up into his arms. “You feel better?”

She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. “You’re as bad as Dolls, you know that?”

“Are you saying that the good Marshall has taken you over his knee?” Doc raised his eyebrows. “I did not think the more modern gentleman resorted to such things.”

“I think he’s more old-fashioned than you think.” Wynonna wrinkled her nose. “You said—you said you always felt better after. Who spanked you?”

Doc flushed. “I was trying to settle you down a bit.”

“Uh huh, answer the question, tough guy.”

“If you must know, it was your great-granddaddy. And he had a much harder hand than I.”

Wynonna shook her head. “It’s hard to imagine you getting spanked. Although…now that I know, I’m totally keeping that in mind the next time you do something stupid.”

“Are you suggesting that you will attempt to put me over your knee?” He raised his eyebrows. “Not that I wouldn’t be entertained by the attempt.”

“Oh no,” Wynonna shook her head. “I’ll just let Dolls handle it.” She flashed a smile.

Doc couldn’t help his flash of concern. “You wouldn’t.

“Oh I would.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You help me, I help you.”

“Well aren’t you a giving and kind creature.”

“I am. I really am.” She was also, now, really tired. Wynonna yawned.

“Well then, let’s get you to bed.” Doc helped her up and into bed, hoping she’d forget all about her little idea by morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last short of Season One, unless anyone has a special request. I do take those on occasion.


End file.
